LOSERS
by PunInserted
Summary: High School; (noun) a school that typically comprises grades 9 through 12, attended after primary school or middle school. Better known as another word for "Hell" (Rated T for mature or sexual content, crude language, and absolute bullfuckery. Enjoy!)
1. Headlights

**ALL CHARACTERS AND EVENTS IN THE FOLLOWING FANFICTION-**

**EVEN THOSE BASED ON REAL PEOPLE- ARE ENTIRELY FICTIONAL.**

**ALL CANON CHARACTERS ARE WRITTEN...POORLY.**

**THE FOLLOWING STORY CONTAINS SHITTY OCS, GRAMMAR, JOKES, AND PAIRINGS,**

**AND DUE TO IT'S CONTENT, SHOULD NOT BE READ BY ANYONE..**

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_**Ace's POV**_

_**Chapter One:**_

_**Headlights**_

Cereal can be just as easily ruined as an appetite, and thanks to the tall man that was carefully exiting my mother's bedroom and the fly that had made it's way into my cereal, I was able to learn about this quicker than I would have preferred. Quietly and careful not to make a sound, the lanky man eased the door shut and without even glancing at me, he began to make his way down the narrow hallway. With every trip over his undone pants that barely clung onto his slender hips with an unbuckled, black leather belt, I watched him. And with every step, he tried his hardest not to fall to the ground. I giggled silently, watching him attempt, and fail, to walk without sound.

I made the tiniest sound and almost immediately, he noticed me. I gave a slight wave, and he waved with the hand that carried the shirt that was vacant from torso. It took him a minute to realize exactly who I probably was, and when it clicked in his mind, he immediately paused and mumbled something under his breath. He was a deer in headlights as our eyes met, his narrowed, amber irises glued to the wide, forest green that I called my own. I barely smirked before lifting up my fly infested bowl and gesturing it outwards to him, "Want some?" Secretly, I hoped he would say yes and eat the fly. I was a rather mature seventeen year old, obviously.

The man whose probably seen my mom naked forced a small smile and shook his head, denying me of my offerings. "I'm fine, thanks, " he looked around as the words left his mouth, awkwardly shifting from one foot to another. It was obvious that he was desperate to leave and I couldn't say that I blamed him, we and our house were nothing special. The poor excuse we called a shelter was small, with one floor, one hallway, one bathroom, and absolutely no heating. With a shrug, I got up and dumped the remainder of my breakfast into the sink. While failing to get the image of my mother having odd old people sex right across the room from my own, I remembered how I had heard weird noises the night before, but I thought she was just watching wrestling. For some reason, I just realized that neither do we have cable, nor does she even like wrestling. After all these years of having to hear what I once assumed was wrestling go on, there was not a more obvious reason for why I was a heavy sleeper. Now, let me be the first to say that I was damn glad for that trait.

"Go on home now, little deer," I said as I lazily dropped my bowl into the sink and looked back over at him, my hand wresting on the soft fabric of my one, and only, hoodie. It wasn't even mine to begin with, It was my brother's. He gave it to me back in ninth grade because my jacket was getting too small for me. He had a job so he got a new one for himself, and I really liked his, so he just gave it to me. It was twice my size though, because he got my mom's height and I got my dad's. My mom was five foot nine and my dad's only five foot six, which led me to being five foot three for some odd reason, my younger sister being an astounding five foot ten and my older brother was six foot two, but I haven't seen him since college started back up for him. He had gotten a scholarship for baseball three years ago, and otherwise, he wouldn't have been able to go.

"What?" The man asked, one of his bushy eyebrows raised with the curiosity in his low, confused voice. I didn't know what was so hard to comprehend about what I had just said; I told him to go home, because isn't that what he wanted to do anyway? Now that he knows my mom has kids, and that he just had sex with some random older woman when he was drunk, wouldn't that be what he was thinking? Doesn't he _want_ to go home? I kinda hoped he was just confused about me calling him a deer part, because everything else should be as clearer than crystal.

"Just go the hell home, dude. You have no interest in my mother or my family and you're just like everyone else. Oh, and before you leave, do me a solid and put on a shirt before you leave the house, the neighbors already spread around enough shit about us without your help," I frowned as he went to speak, but found nothing to say and walked out the front door. "Dumbass," I mumbled, watching the door slam behind him. I might've been a little harsh, but this happened at least twice a week, and I was sick of waking up to random men in my house. The slamming of the front door did nothing but result in the opening of my mother's as she stepped out from her room with dirty blonde hair strewn about on her head and covering her chocolate colored eyes that acted as hands for the dark bags underneath her eyes. My mother always frowned, her full lips stretched into a sad smile, and it only deepened when she realized that I was the only one there.

"Did Scott leave?" She asked, glancing over the room once again to make sure that he wasn't standing there, completely under her radar. I didn't say anything for a moment, staring down at the sink. She sighed and tightened her ratty robe and walked over to the kitchen. Sometimes, I was glad that I looked more like my father than my mother. Then again, it's been years since I've seen my mother make an actual attempt at taking care of herself. "Is he taking a shit or something?"

"Actually, you just missed him," my voice was apparently louder than my original intent by the way my mother cringed and pressed her hand against her temple. I couldn't help but think that it was from the massive hangover she always seemed to wake up with. I rolled my eyes and pushed up the sleeves of my hoodie, because the sleeves tended to hang off of my hands whenever they weren't, and scoured the room for my backpack. Tucker should be here any second to pick me up, and he'd probably get pissed if I already made him late so early in our senior year. "Y'know mom," I said as I began to make my way over to the old couch, "You should probably stop drinking ."

"And you should get a damn job other than telling me how to live my life," she placed a mug underneath the coffee brewer, the corner of her lip twitching slightly. The smell of coffee grounds escaped the brewer and wafted in the air among us. Coffee and alcohol seemed to be what my mother was made out of, not water.

"And you should stop inviting random strangers over to embrace your little pity party while you have your children in their rooms across from you," I glanced over my shoulder at the tall figure that was hunched over the coffee brewer before returning my sight to the couch. With great distress, all I saw was the worn and torn black fabric that covered our couch, and I couldn't help but try to remember if it had always been black. I really had no idea what it could have been at this point, my memory really was terrible. Despite this, I did remember when she started acting like this. Ever since my dad cheated on her, she had stopped going to therapy and anger management classes. She was too proud for bankruptcy, and too weak to make it through on her own. The result was moving into a small house in South Park and still barely managing to be able to scrape by. As much as I didn't get along with my younger sister, I didn't want her to have to finish growing up dealing with this after I graduated, because she, and no one else, deserved this. I might though, even if it was only a little.

Mother dearest glanced back at me with a scowl laced onto her face and her eyes slightly narrowed in disapproval. "Don't you have school or something to go drop out of?" She snapped, and I rolled my eyes in response. Managing to catch a glimpse of my bag, which was hidden behind a single chair, and I regret not realizing it before, I smiled in triumph to myself. I tried to ignore her comment as I flipped my hood over my head and slung my bag over my shoulder, knowing that Tucker should have arrived already. Honestly, my mother wasn't the type of person to believe in their kid, even more so the one she claims ruined her marriage. She doesn't even believe in herself, so it was hard for her to think that anything she created could ever be more than a lustful, abusive, lonely drunk. After so many years of living like this, I was used to it. Besides, right now wasn't even bad compared to the nights she didn't have a random man in our house.

"Yeah, I do, actually," I sighed and rested my hand on the dented, golden doorknob, turning it, but not pulling it open, and spoke, "have a nice day, mom."

"Whatever, Ace, Just go fail another test already," she scoffed, sipping her freshly brewed coffee, with cracked, full lips pressed to the rim of the mug. I nodded slightly as a lump began to form in my throat before throwing the door open and slamming it shut.

The ten minutes that I waited for Craig Tucker were spent forcing myself not to cry, adjusting my worn out book bag and thinking of all the things I could have said that didn't involve me slamming the door and walking out of the house. Gently easing to a stop, his car rolled up to the side of my house. A boy, blonde with blue eyes, rolled down the passenger seat window and grinned a grin that only Kenny McCormick could manage, "Come on, you're gonna make us late," He called out to me and threw his used cigarette to burn out in the snow. Rolling my eyes, and trying to hold back a smirk, I walked up to the car and swung the backseat's door open. After sliding in, I shut the door after me and Craig began to drive.

His navy blue eyes had been narrowed with a furrowed brow as he drove, his concentration not wavering from the path ahead of him. Quickly, he broke that streak and glanced into the rearview mirror at me. He grimaced, his expression becoming blank before he turned back to the road, "Put your seatbelt on," he said, his tone stern. I complied immediately out of impulse, and then grinned at Craig like I never did anything wrong.

"It's been on the whole time, Tuck," I nodded in agreement with myself as if I was the smartest thing in Colorado. I could tell you I was, but if you asked anyone else, they would probably say the opposite. I don't know what everyone has against me, but, I think I'm pretty damn awesome. Craig rolled his eyes, trying to ignore my presence so that he could concentrate. He mumbled a few words, and nothing more to me. It might have been a bad morning for him too, I guess.

After a few silent minutes, Kenny's pale hand shot up to the radio to change the station, neither of them had ever agreed on what song to listen to, knowing that they had slightly different tastes in music. It was Craig's rule, however, that if he's driving, he picks the music. No one else ever drives because he won't let anyone else drive his car, and because neither Kenny nor I could afford a car yet, we were stuck riding everywhere with him. I'm starting to believe that the job that Craig would be the best at is a chauffeur. I mean, he already practically is one. He complains all of the time that he has to take us from place to place, but other than that, he doesn't seem to _actually_ mind it. I think he just really likes complaining like an old jewish grandmother, or better yet, Kyle's mom.

Craig's hand smacked Kenny's just as his hand placed instead on the dial, resulting the channel to change to some Spanish station. I took two years of Spanish and I still have no idea what they were saying, nor did I really wish that I knew what they were saying. If I cared that much, I could have figured out the name of the song and asked that hefty, conniving kid that despite being racist, was fluent in Spanish. It's the little things that truly amazed me.

Their eyes briefly met, blue to blue. Kenny had smirked and kept his hand on the dial, switching it again to what he wanted to listen to, or really, what he knew what annoy Craig the most. The driver shoved his shoulder and switched it back to normal, giving the passenger a sideways glare. All he could really do was wink at him, prepared to make some kind of comment about the push, but Craig was already grimacing as it was, so Kenny left him alone.

We had to ride in silence after that, due to every time Kenny went to talk, Craig would just turn up the music even more. It really amazed me that he was able to annoy Tucker so much. There weren't too many people who could get under his skin too much, and if you were able to once, you probably would be able to again.

Upon arrival to the high school, he pulled into his parking spot, put the car in park, and took the keys out of ignition, and slid them into his pocket. The bell rang as soon as the metal made contact with the jean of his pants, signifying that we were late. Craig ran a hand through his dark, straight locks and took a deep breath. Knowing how often we all got detention, he was probably trying not to get pissed at either Kenny or I for making him late. In the end, I doubt it was anyone but Kenny's fault. He always over slept, and I really wished I could do that, but I would probably never wake up if I did. Sadly, I was cursed with trying to stay awake in my classes for the whole damned day. There's a very heavy emphasis on trying, by the way.

It didn't bother Kenny at all that we were so late, and all he could really do was shrug when the bell pierced our hearing. "Sounds like we'll be fashionably late. Just like last year, right, you guys?" He grinned and flicked his fluffy, wavy hair out of his crystal colored eyes before grinning back at me.

"If I have a repeat of last year I'm going to commit," I sighed and unbuckled my seatbelt, wishing that my final year of high school could just be over and done with already. Almost automatically, before I even thought to get out of the car, I adjusted the headband that sat in my dark brown curls. It served no real purpose, but it was like a security blanket.

"Let's hope it's not a repeat of last year, then," Craig mumbled to himself, to the point where I could barely hear it. I wasn't sure why he always mumbled, but he had something to say about everything, and there's a good chance it was all negative. 'How's the weather, Craig?' 'Oh, it's hell. It's always hell here.' Rolling my eyes at the thought, I opened the car door, hopped out, and slammed it shut again.

Upon exiting the shaded interior of Tucker's car, I squinted at the blinding, natural light. Instinctively, I began to walk away from the car and towards the road, in an attempt to maneuver around the vehicle. My ears filled with the sound of a speeding car and my eyes stared upwards at the blue sky, wondering why it wasn't as blue as it used to seem, and when it got so dull. I remembered being a kid and always wishing my eyes were the same blue as the sky, or if I'd ever be that pretty. When I was a kid, I always wanted to grow up, too. Back then, I didn't appreciate how great it was to be living with my mother and my father, and for them to be happy. I think that's really what my family lost through everything we've been through. We've forgotten how to be happy.

I stopped a few inches away from the car, still squinting and staring upwards, waiting for Kenny and Craig to hurry up so that we could make our grand entrance into the school. Of course, we were oh so fashionably late. I wasn't paying attention to what was going on around me, absently just staring at the sky, reminiscing. It took me a minute to come to the sound of the speeding motor growing louder, and I finally broke my attention away from the sky to see where the car was. With just my luck, the car was behind me, the girl in the drivers seat was yelling about some nonsense with music loud enough to hear from where I was standing. My head tilted to the side, frozen, not thinking about the fact that I was in it's way, and I became just another deer in headlights. Time slowed down for me, and I felt the car getting closer and a hand grip my pale arm, pulling me into fabric and human contact. The car sped by me and swung into a parking space across from ours, and I turned to face who I was being hugged against. Craig was who was looking down at me with panic flashing across his eyes, not even realizing that his hand was still wrapped around my arm. "Be careful, dammit," he huffed, his hand unmoving, and his eyes trained on me.

"I wasn't doing anything, though! I was only standing," I argued, narrowing my eyes up at him, my cheeks heating up at his unmoving touch. Why hadn't he already moved his hand? My eyes flashed down to it, and his followed, he blushed for a moment and quickly removed his hand.

"Sorry," He mumbled, cooly running his hand through his hair. I remember how when we first met he always wore this ratty, old blue chullo. He stopped when it got really hot that summer, and I guess he just forgot to wear it again after that. I think that's the summer that I remember the most, it was the best one I've ever had. Well, y'know, besides the whole Kenny getting really sick thing.

Before I could reply to Craig, a car door slammed shut, interrupting my train of thought. I glanced over at where it came from, and a boy of five foot ten with tan skin was next to the car that almost ran me over. A girl, who was five foot seven and equally as tan, exited the other side of the vehicle nonchalantly, her expression blank. The boy was almost seething, clenching and unclenching his fists. I didn't recognize him, really, but he was familiar in some sense, like I knew him from somewhere. The girl, on the other hand, I recognized right away as Aussie Jackson, who coincidentally, wasn't a big fan of me for reasons I didn't know. I was really curious as to why, but there was no way in hell that I was going to go up to her and ask. "You could have fucking killed her, and you still don't give a damn?" The boy said, his voice was similar too, only slightly deeper.

"I didn't say that I didn't care, I said that she should have moved quicker. We could have scratched the car and I sure as hell wasn't going to be the one to tell mom," She spoke cooly and then raised an eyebrow as she gently shut the car door. I could only guess that they were siblings by the way she talked to him, but I had no idea that she had a sibling. They did look a lot alike, but there was no way he was a freshman and if he was a junior or a sophomore I would have at least seen him by now. Maybe he was just really under my radar for some reason. But then again, I've never been known to be observant, and I felt like I knew him from _somewhere._

"Holy shit, Aussie," he ran a hand through his pushed up, pale blonde hair, and tugged it slightly, "I hope Ace is okay." With a sigh, he glanced over towards us, initially unaware of the fact that I had been watching them. His eyes widened almost immediately, a fain blush crossing his cheeks as his London blue eyes met mine. After a few seconds he quickly glanced down and rubbed the back of his neck. The boy mumbled something before slinging his bag over his shoulder, shoving his free hand into his pocket, and walking towards the school. Aussie, after giving a short, abrupt laugh, walked after him.

"I bet she doesn't even remember your name, you dork," she yelled and then proceeded to walk after him. Her brother slung his middle finger into the air in defiance, his stature becoming a bit more tense than before. Quizzically, I stared, wondering what the hell they were talking about. I glanced at Craig, who looked both annoyed and irritated by something I had no idea about, before he too, walked towards the school.

"C'mon, Ace, lets go," Kenny said, hitting the back of my head, and caused me to stumble forward slightly. I narrowed my eyes at him, he smirked back at me, and together we walked after Tucker.

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading the shittastic first chapter of whatever the hell this is! If you want to contact me directly, you can either find me on twitter ( aonoerection) or over PM. I will consider accepting OCs if you'd want me to use yours- But I can't promise anything!;; Please leave a review, it really means a lot to authors. Your feedback is everything, good or bad!

**Cover is temporary as of right now, and was drawn by a really good friend of mine; raining-candy on deviantART! **

-Bree


	2. Hopeless

_**Asher's POV**_

_**Chapter Two:**_

_**Hopeless **_

I cringed when I saw the black of my deformed handwriting, polluting the crisp, white sheet of paper. All I could do was frown down at it, blaming my absence of practice from the summer. It was nearly unreadable, but I found myself deciding to turn it in anyway. The psychology teacher, Mrs. Johnson, scribbled chicken scratch onto the whiteboard with a pale, blue marker. After looking at her handwriting, I didn't really feel so bad about mine. Not even bothering to decipher it's code, I slyly looked back at the girl who was sitting behind me. She was fiercely writing something down, but I couldn't see what she was writing. Her long, curly, dark brown hair acted as if it was a curtain, shielding both her face and the paper from my sight. I could barely even see the large, exaggerated letters that read, "_Ace Jones," _ on her paper. For some reason, she always wrote the a in the fashion of a star.

Ace began to slow down with her writing until she came to an absolute stop, and afterwards, peaked up to look at me. Her forest green eyes narrowed, staring at mine until I quickly looked away. Once I looked back at her, she held her head in a tilt, and she was very faintly frowning, "Sup, dude?"

"Huh?" I managed to stutter out, and began to feel my cheeks turn red, just by the way she was staring at me. Anytime before this moment, I would have killed for her to even glance my way, but for some reason, right now I was a nervous wreck. After we stared at each other for a few, long moments, she snickered and sat back in her metal chair. Her pale, freckled arms crossed neatly over one another and a smirk rested on her lips.

"You gotta be new here or something, because you look familiar, but I can't recall your name to save my damn life," she paused, "I mean, I thought I knew who the hell everyone was, even if it was a _little._ You kinda look like Aussie, so I thought that you might be her little brother. But-" She moved her hand, which was formed in a fist over her mouth and furrowed her eyebrows. Ace's eyes looked me up and down, as if she was studying me. "You really don't look younger than her though," she mumbled underneath her breath, so quiet that it was barely audible. I really, really hoped that it was a compliment, or if she was just commenting on the fact that I don't look like a freshman or something. Oh god, I _really_ hoped that I didn't look like a freshman to her.

It's taken me forever to realize that Aussie had always been right about the fact that I was chasing after a girl who didn't even know my name. Now that I had realized it, I was frozen, staring at her and neglecting to blink. The only thought that managed to flood my mind, was what the hell was I supposed to do now? The bell ran before I could full come to, and she nodded abruptly, "Good talk," she spoke, and then patted my shoulder, making my heart skip a beat. I held back a sigh, a frown twitching at my lips as she collected her things, the paper, and began to walk past me, and then she stopped, as if she gave it a second thought. And for the first time in two years, Ace gave me a second look. "I'm your future hero, by the way," another pause, a wink, and a wide grin, "But I guess you can call me Ace. I'll see ya' around, dude."

And with that, the girl of my dreams turned in her paper, and left the classroom.

I stared at the door that she had left from, not being able to believe that I had managed to fuck up talking to her, when this is the first time she's talked to me in two years. The same thought passed through my head over and over again, and I automatically slapped my paper onto the stack of other papers, and gradually set off on my way to the cafeteria. The bright, florescent lighting created shadows among the buzzing students in the hallway. Nervously, I shoved my hands into my pockets and kept ahold of my bookbag's strap with the other, and I walked through them all.

From the corner of my eye, Bebe Stevens leaned up against the locker, talking about some nonsense to my twin. She glanced over at me with bright green eyes, for a moment, looked down, and back again. I rolled my eyes at her, and looked forward once more. We dated in ninth grade, and it was superficial, almost. I didn't think I was going to stay in America for more than a few months, and she wanted to date that "foreign kid" before anyone else had a chance to. Regretfully, I dated her so that I had something to tell when I got back to Australia, but that day never came. Dating her because of that broke almost every personal rule that I had when it came to girls. Clyde always told me that the rule was stupid, and was why I'd be chasing after the same girl until I graduated. For some reason, I knew he was right because I was desperately in love with someone who barely knew of my existence.

When I got into the cafeteria, I neglected to get my food and sat down in my usual seat. Since tenth grade, I'd sit with Clyde on the edge of the table closest to the back wall. He wasn't there yet, and I had no reason to do anything but bury my face in my arms. I never realized how close that I had been to Ace's table until now, and never had I wanted to move farther away. Peaking up for a second, to glance at where she was sitting, the first thing I saw was Craig's smirk. My hands balled into fists, and I allowed myself to frown more, wondering what the hell she saw in him anyway. He wasn't even that great…

"Bro," a hand pulled the hood of my white jacket over my flipped-up blonde hair, and I chased it away. The hand and voice undoubtfuly belonged to a boy with messy dark brown hair and a sheepish grin who was known by Clyde Donovan. He could also be called that-one-guy-who-would-probably-fuck-anything-with-legs, but Clyde was a much shorter and more appropriate alternative. Besides, Kenny could easily take that title too. Lazily, I glanced up at him before resting my chin on my arm as he sat down across from me. He was accompanied by a blonde with a deep frown laced across her thin lips. After raising an eyebrow, I went to ask Clyde who the hell he invited to sit with us today. He was probably already picking up a freshman, and it wasn't even a month within the school year yet. It was more like baby sitting, rather than dating, in my point of view. But who was I to judge about peoples' love lives.

"Who's this?" I asked, gesturing my tan hand to the girl who sat down beside him.

"This? Oh, this is Kate; she's in my shop class, and had no one else to sit with, so I told her that she could sit with us," he paused and shielded her from seeing his mouth, and mouthed something about her being a total babe. I didn't think that him calling her a total babe was that big of a deal since he thought that every girl with boobs and didn't hate him was a "total babe". Clyde winked at me, removed his hand, and then looked back at Kate, "Now, this sack of shit is Ashley-"

"Asher."

"Same thing, bro. Whatever. That's Ashley and he's a shitty hopeless romantic and if you think he's hot, don't even bother with him, because he's too much of a douche to give anyone a second glance," Clyde stated, frowning. I wasn't really sure what was going on, but I got the feeling that Clyde was coming onto me.

"I'm not a damn hopeless romantic, dude."

"You so fuckin' are! You've been _hopelessly_ chasing after the same girl for three years, and I'm pretty sure if you went up to her right now, you'd be _hopelessly _rejected because she has no idea who the hell you are," Clyde gestured his hands outwards, grazing his bottle of _Arizona Tea_ with his voice slowly growing louder as he talked, "It's probably the reason you don't have a girlfriend."

"Does that bother you or something?" Kate asked, raising an eyebrow at him, and glanced him up and down. I was hoping that she didn't get why he got so upset so quickly, either.

"Hell fucking yes it does! While he's single, the majority of babes are wanting him to notice them. My problem is while they're all competing for this foreign ass's love, I can't even get any of them to look at me! He even has _Bebe _drooling over him. I want a girl to drool over me! Like, Kate, do you think Asher's attractive?"

"Mhm, I guess so," She shrugged, not really interested in where the conversation was going. Her eyes glanced from me to the roll on her tray. In a few moments, she carefully picked it up, examined it, and then tore a piece off of the burnt piece of bread. Almost immediately, her nose crinkled in disgust and she threw it back down.

"Mother fucker! See? Ash, you gotta stop throwing a damn pity party over her all the time. This isn't a romance novel, and by the looks of it, she sure as hell isn't going to be your love interest by you just lusting after her," he replied and proceeded to fold his arms and pout like some kind of three year old. I looked over at Kate and offered a small, uncomfortable smile. I felt pretty awful that this is the first conversation that she had to witness between the two of him. Her eyes flickered away from us, around the cafeteria, and then back again. Clyde sighed, his voice lowering to a whisper, "You gotta at least try harder instead of staring at your phone, still being too nervous to text her after she gave you her number three years ago."

Kate bit her lip for a second, narrowing her eyes, as if she was trying to find someone in particular. She ignored what Clyde said, maybe not hearing it, but I know that I did. Regretfully, he was probably right. With a dissatisfied grunt, she looked back at us. "Who the hell are you guys talking about, anyway? You seem pretty popular by the looks of it, and if she doesn't know your name, she probably doesn't pay attention to jack squat."

"Don't worry about it," I mumbled, glaring at Clyde to make sure he kept his mouth shut. It was obvious enough that I had feelings for her to the people that knew me, and I didn't want some girl who didn't even know I had a twin, telling people about it. Honestly, I felt ridiculous about getting so worked up over it. But, for some reason, I just couldn't help it.

We sat in silence, my eyes glancing back over to the same table that I always found myself looking at, and then cursing myself for doing it. I rarely got crushes on people that often, but when I do, I had the feeling that I tended to go a bit overboard with them. Rarely did I actually get to talk to her, but I talked to Craig more than I would have liked. I hated the guy-despised him almost- and he was the most apathetic, blunt, selfies piece of shit. She could totally do better. I mean, I knew that they weren't dating, but that didn't cause my feelings to shift towards the guy. If she dated either of her friends, It'd be god damn skippy if she dated Kenny over Craig. Kenny was pretty cool. In reality, even if she dated Craig, i'd be happy as long as she was. It's not like I'd have much of a chance anyway.

Lost in my thoughts, I nearly didn't feel the french fry being smacked against my face. Fora few minutes, I didn't even think to move, simply just blinking and trying to comprehend the fact that someone threw something at me. "Wow, he's really into it," Clyde whispered, probably to Kate, "I'd be worried if his hands were under the table-"

"Shut up, dude. It's kinda cute," she whispered back, and a few minutes later, another french fry hit the side of my face. "Wake up Romeo," she giggled

"Fuck off," I looked back at Clyde, just as another french fry was launched towards me. I failed at my attempt to smack it out of the air, and furrowed my eyebrows at him. All he did was laugh harder than before, his body shaking and a hand smacked against his forehead. Kate shortly joined in afterwards. Sitting there, fermenting in my own rage, I huffed and stared at the table in front of me. I was glad I ended up not getting food, because I felt as if I was going to puke.

Lunch ended shortly after that, and classes dragged on throughout the day. A month hadn't even passed yet, and I was already more than ready to graduate. This year mean my last year of high school football, and hoping that I manage to make it through the season without injury. I really didn't want to wind up unconscious and waking up in a hospital. Hospitals are terrifying and I'm not sure how my mother is able to stick around one all day. All of the death and illness was almost overbearing in them, and it was filled with grief. With a sigh, I ran a hand through my hair, and frowned at my hands.

An elbow roughly pressed into my side, and the owner was grinning like it was a part-time job, "I don't get why you're upset when you're fucking rich. Man, if I was rich, I would always be happy as hell." My eyes drifted over to the shorter boy who sat beside me, his blue eyes shining. I was starting to wonder why the hell there were so many people with blonde hair and blue eyes around here. Maybe all of the stereotypes about Americans really were true after all. After all, I blend in here pretty well. I could be an Australian spy, and they would never know. The boy beside me shook his head, causing fluffy hair to be tossed around. With a groan, I crossed my arms over my bare chest, too lazy to finish changing into my normal clothes.

Gesturing outwards with my hands, I sighed, "Having money doesn't guarantee anyone to be happy," pausing, I glanced at the door, and then back at my friend, "There are other things that people want to be happy." Putting down my hand, it hit the rough surface of the bench I sat on, "You'd probably be just as grin-y as you always are."

"Nah, I'd probably just get more ladies than I already do. If Ace wasn't poor as shit, she'd probably-" He stopped mid-sentence, and cleared his throat, "Never mind. Don't you have someone waiting on you? Practice ended twenty minutes ago. I'm just still here because my friends wanted to go check something out," Kenny spoke, slipping his feet into a pair of old, worn out pair of combat boots that were always folded down. He tucked orange jeans into them, and then laced up his shoes. I raised an eyebrow at the mention of Ace, but dismissed it, not wanting to get into the topic of her again. Just thinking about my situation made my head swirl and my stomach ache. It's awful when crushes really do crush you.

I looked at the fabric that laid next to my hand on the wooden seat, and allowed myself to chuckle softly, "Yeah, Aussie and I always have to ride home together since my parents are stalling to get another car. They said whoever gets the best GPA when they graduate gets a new one. She'll probably get it, but this one's pretty sweet too." Nodding in agreement with myself, I picked up the soft, dark fabric and slipped it on. Strewn on the floor, my white hoodie laid. Staring at it for a moment, I picked it up and laid it out in my lap. I'd had this since ninth grade, and for some reason I always found myself wearing it. My left hand dug into my pocket, and grasped the black, metal pocket watch I carried around everywhere. My best friends gave it to me before I went to America for what was supposed to be a vacation. It had America's time programmed in it, and they told me that it was to remind me of "freedom o' clock."

Taking it out, I examined the chipped gold paint of the raised designs on the cover, tracing them with my slender fingers before flipping it open. The time read as 5:23, and immediately I felt bad for leaving my sister out there alone. With a sigh, I clasped it closed. "Damn, sorry about the car, dude. We should probably go though, Craig's probably already back," he shook his head and stood up. He gripped his parka in his hands, as he stared down at my watch. Raising an eyebrow at him, I slipped it back into my pocket. Almost mimicking him, I gripped my hoodie in my hands and slid off of the bench.

"Do you know where Clyde went?" I asked, putting on my hoodie as I did so, hoping that he didn't ask me about the watch. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to go home either, and stalling was one of my only options. Another night alone wasn't exactly number one on my list.

"Nah, not really. He left right after practice, talking about wanting to go visit someone, I think," he mumbled, tapping his chin. I nodded, and rolled up my white sleeves before shoving my hands into the pockets on the front of the cloth. He too, slipped on his jacket, and then gestured towards the exit of the locker room. With a sigh, we both walked out of the room, and into the cold afternoon of South Park, Colorado.

Australia and Colorado were absolutely nothing alike, and I can't even stand to think about the cold. The breeze that tussled our hair and clothes reminded me of this, and made me squeeze my shoulders together to avoid shivering. Kenny and I didn't talk much as we walked towards the school parking lot, my eyes trained on the ground as we continued on. "Y'know, you're not as talkative as people think you are," he frowned slightly, rubbing the back of his neck, "I think it's just Clyde that makes you seem that way."

"I don't talk when I have nothing to say," I shrugged, "If I force myself to talk, I gotta have a good reason for it." Glancing at him, I immediately felt bad about what I had just said. His eyebrows were furrowed slightly, and his lip twitched downwards. "Wait, I meant-"

"Nah, nah, it's cool," Kenny smiled slightly again, and gave me a thumbs up before crossing his arms, "I'm just glad you fuckin' talk to me at all," A faint blush lit up my cheeks, and I nodded, clearing my throat afterwards. If someone asked me what my least favorite quality about myself was, it would be the fact that I blush over everything. Guys aren't supposed to blush, are they?

"Yeah-" I began, but was almost instantly interrupted by someone driving up next to the sidewalk we were walking down, and whoever sat in the passenger seat, slowly rolled down the window. I should have taken note of the bass booming in the distance, and maybe then I would have been prepared. Inside of the music filled car, Craig sat in the drivers seat, and Ace in the passenger's. Both of them wore aviator glasses with straight faces, although one seemed more natural than the other. Ace turned to us, lowered her glasses, smirked, and raised her eyebrows.

"It's not often that I see hero worthy people around," She yelled over the music, trying not to make it obvious that she was holding back a laugh as best as she could. Kenny, from beside me, wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pretended to shoot her with a gun made out of his fingers.

"And it's not often that I see a hero and her fateful sidekick showing up late," he snickered and patted me on the cheek. I wasn't really sure what to do, since I wasn't so used to interacting with the three of them. No one really did. They were like some kind of clique that no one really wanted to be apart of. I wouldn't mind hanging out with Ace and Kenny all day though. Kenny sneaked his arm from back around me, and started to open the car door, "If you want, we'll give you a ride to your car." He smirked and glanced at Craig, as if he was getting him back for something.

"Woah, so you're at least a junior, huh?" Ace said, leaning her head out the window, her hands gripping the car's door. The blond boy looked over at her, gasped, and shook his head quickly.

"Yeah, pretty boy, get in," Ace said, leaning the top half of her body out the window, her hands gripped on the car door. The blond looked over at her, and laughed.

"Acey, you know this kid's name, don't ya'?

"Am I supposed to?"

"This kid is a senior! Asher Jackson? Aussie's twin— We've gone to school with them since the ninth grade and you're fucking neglecting his existence like a prick," Kenny started, and then pulled Ace back inside the car by her hoodie, causing her to narrow her eyes at him in dissatisfaction. From beside her, Craig gripped the steering wheel, and his head was turned to look straight ahead. As always, his expression was painfully blank.

Ace looked back at me after a few seconds, studying my face. Her's lit up almost instantly— as if she recognized me—, causing my face to redden even more. Quickly, she slid up her glasses, looked forward, and said in a very even tone, "Get in the car, Mister Jackson. Princess bitch tits awaits thee." Slapping a hand over my mouth, I nodded, trying not to laugh at the nickname for my sister out of respect. She did act as if she was some kind of entitled princess sometimes, but then again, she had always been treated like one.

"As you wish," I mumble, and walked around the car, opened the door, and sat down inside. In an uneven rhythm, three car doors shut, and Craig still remained quiet. He took a pale hand and adjusted the front view mirror, glaring at me through sunglasses as he did so. Quickly, I looked away from him, and my eyes almost automatically rested on Ace. Her feet were on the dashboard, and she slumped down in her seat. Kenny elbowed my side again, and winked. My cheeks reddened more, and I shoved him into the car door. Honestly, I think this car ride was going to be the longest three minutes I've ever had.

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A/N: Hello! Sorry that it's taken me so long to update, and that this one isn't too dandy- I've been busy and unmotivated. u n u;; Hopefully I'll update quicker next time- and make it better. And with more canon characters hahah ,,,

Did you spot a movie reference? B)


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